


Zoey’s Extraordinary Prompt List

by craigslist crackers (CameronFaneron)



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CameronFaneron/pseuds/craigslist%20crackers
Summary: Just a collection of one shots I write using a list of prompts ;)
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman, maybe more ?? ;)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 95





	1. Prompt 1: “Tell Me Again”

Ever since the funeral, Max has picked up a habit of telling Zoey he loved her. And every time, it never failed to punch Zoey in the gut and steal her breath away. 

“Dude,” Zoey has said one day. “You keep paying for our lunches. Stop and let me foot the bill for once.” 

Max only shook his head and laughed. “I can’t stop. I love you, Zoey, I can’t stop doing things for you.” 

Zoey froze in her seat, absolutely floored by those four words. Even Max looked a little mortified. “Uh, what? Did you say?” 

Max put in a quizzical look, a perfect poker face. “I can’t stop doing things for you?” 

Zoey shook her head, and the topic was tabled for the day. 

The next time it happened, they were at the hospital. 

The morning of, Zoey received a tex from her brother saying:

_ ZOEY!!!!! GETT TO THE HOSPITLA RIGT NOW!!!!!! THE BABY IS ACTUALLY COMIGN!!!!!!!! _

She had received the text during her lunch break with Max, and they sped over to the hospital together(“Zoey, are you sure I should come?” “Of course! You're basically family.”). The Uber Max called was ten minutes late and smelled of cigarette butts and alcohol. To make matters worse, he kept talking about his wife’s many miscarriages. Max squeezed her hand the whole ride to the hospital. 

Upon arrival, everything was crazy. Nurses were racing in and out of rooms, each one either wheeling a patient around or delivering food and medicine on cart. Max and Zoey were led down a long hallway by a nurse to the room Emily was supposed to be in. It was obviously hers, telling from the screams of “I can’t believe you did this to me, David,” and “I’m going to rip off your nuts and shove them down your throat,”. 

When the baby, Mitchell Harris Clarke, was born, he cried in his mother and father’s arms while they sang a heart song to him. Zoey recognizes it as a classic lullaby. “You're my sunshine”, or something similar.   


Two weeks post birth, David invited both Max and Zoey over to see the baby. Emily motioned for Zoey to hold the baby, and she did without hesitation. Once in her arms, Mitchell’s cries calmed down, and he laid peacefully in Zoey’s embrace.

He was small and dainty, red faced and curly haired. Max peered over her shoulder, smiling fondly at Mitchell. 

“You’re so good with children.” Max sighed. “I really do love you, Zoey.” 

Zoey almost dropped the baby. Almost.

Now everytime Zoey did anything with Max, whether it be eating out, hanging out, talking over phone calls, or anything, Max would always tell Zoey he loved her. Always. And it was never as a traditional “I love you, bye” send off. It was always in the middle of conversation, random and jarring each time. Zoey could never get a grip on herself afterwards, his words rocking her to her core without fail. 

Today was a movie night. Movie night was almost a religious experience, one to be cherished and treasured. To miss a movie night is to choose death. Unless your dad passes away and your sister-in-law gives birth, and you need time to calm down and think. Max could get behind missing a few movie nights if it meant Zoey didn’t overwhelm herself. Today was the first one in four weeks.

“Zo, you don’t gotta do this right now. We can always wait a few more weeks.” He put his hands up in surrender. “No pressure.” 

Zoey rolled her eyes and flipped through the arrays of CD in her case. “You’re not pressuring me, dork.” She smiled and turned to Max. “It sounds like you don’t want to hang out with me anymore.”

Max shook his head frantically and took a seat on the couch of Zoey’s living room. “Of course I do. Want to hang out with you, I mean. I love you so much, it’d be a crime to say no.”

There it was. By now, Max has said it so many times that Zoey should be used to it. But she isn’t. 

Zoey took long strides over to Max’s place on the couch. She sat facing him, practically flush to his body, and cupped his jaw with her hand, making him turn his head to her, shocked.

“Tell me again.” Zoey whispered. Max gulped harshly. 

“Uh,” he trailed off. “Tell you what, exactly?” He knew exactly what she was talking about. 

“Tell me you love me. Please.” Almost all of the confidence Zoey had summoned evaporated in an instant and she backed away ever so slightly. “You’ve been telling me you loved me every time we’ve talked or hung out and I really, really love it when you tell me.” She shuddered as Max scooted closer to her, breath fanning across her warm face. “Tell me again? You don’t have to, of course, I just want to-“

“Zoey Clarke?” Max moved so that he leaned over her body on the couch, supported by his arms. “I love you. So much.” 

Zoey surged up and grabbed his face with both her hands, planting her lips on his in an instant. Whether it be the way he said it, or her feelings finally bubbling up to the surface after being stowed away for so long, she couldn’t control herself. If Zoey had known earlier how nice it would be to kiss Max, how good it would feel, she would’ve snapped earlier. 

After a few seconds of shock, Max melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Zoey’s back, effectively pressing their bodies flush together. Zoey pulled away for air before diving back in for more, giving him one, two, three, four more pecks to his soft mouth. Zoey internally screamed about how soft a man's lips could be and how it was illegal for Max to be so nice to kiss.

“I love you. Too.” Zoey spoke, just as dorky as before. “If that wasn’t clear already. I love the songs you sing to me, I love your dumb face and jokes, I love your body, and I even love your dumb nipples, so-“

When Max saved her from complete and utter mortification from her speech with a few smile filled kisses and a heart song, Zoey couldn’t have cared less.


	2. Marry Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is basically a 5 +1 thing except it’s 3 +1 because the chapter was getting too long :))

**#1**

The first time Max thought about actually getting married was, unsurprisingly, at a wedding. Mo and Eddie’s wedding to be exact. 

The wedding was beautiful and elegant, colorfully decorated and completely Mo. It was obvious who planned the wedding with hints of Hispanic culture and the seriously flashy  _ everything _ . Songs by Adele and Beyoncé bounced off the golden walls of the wedding venue. The place they chose was a medium sized barn house that they were able to customize to their liking. Balloons and streamers were strewn about, on the ceiling, the walls, and on the table with the punch bowl that Max was almost 99% sure was spiked. 

Max was seated at a small and round table along the wall, accompanied by two empty chairs. He felt a little silly, slouching and alone while drinking punch as everybody else partied. Max wasn’t angry or disappointed or anything. He just wasn’t much of a party man. Some would beg to differ, but that was because his friends knew drunk max. Drunk Max was fun, but all drunk people think they’re more fun that way, right? 

There was an unspoken agreement that Max and Zoey would be together at the party, and they would use their Wallflower Power™ to be awkward and have a good time. But thirty minutes ago, Zoey had sent a text saying Mo wasn’t going to be ready for a little while, leaving Max alone to be angsty while other people had fun. 

Eventually, after a few more minutes of waiting, Max finally got up and made small talk with Eddie and his family. Then, the other man of the hour entered the building. Max was floored, to say the least. 

Mo entered with his entourage of women and men Max didn’t know(except for Zoey, of course,), clad in a fabulous white and gold accented dress that covered his feet. His hair was put into the poofiest bun max had ever laid eyes on, complete with a golden crown headpiece and shimmer glitter eyeshadow. Mo looked stunning, as per usual, and it was hard for Max to take his eyes off of him. He looked over to Eddie, who had on a dopey grin from under the altar. 

Mo strolled up to Eddie with tears in his eyes, and his crew who walked up with him parted, moving to their own friends and family. Zoey simply walked over to him like a normal person, but she still stole his breath away, more so than Mo. The outfit she wore was a red halter crop top with a matching mermaid skirt, which faded into gold-colored glitter, complementing both Zoey’s hair and makeup, and Mo’s outfit. The eyeshadow Zoey had gone with was a deep red, which faded into a black in the outer edges. Her lips were the same dark shade as the rest of her outfit. Her hair was a half up braided-bun with white flowers stuck onto it. 

Zoey flushed under his gaze. “Like what you see?” She spoke coyly, moving into his side. Max cursed her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew exactly how she affected him. God, he loved her.

“Yes, I really, really do.” He whispered. “You’re stunning, Zoey Clarke.”

Zoey's face went redder than her dress and she pecked him on the cheek. The more  _ intimate _ part of him hoped she left a deep red imprint of her lips on his face. 

They watched as mo and Eddie traded their vows, both ending up in tears but the end. Once the priest who was willing to help in the wedding let them trade kisses, Eddie grabbed Mo’s face and kissed him gently, a smile stuck on his face. Mo was crying, and Zoey sighed wistfully. 

“I want a marriage like theirs.” She breathed completely unaware of what she just implied. 

Max was stuck on one phrase.  _ I want a marriage.  _

Married to Zoey Clarke? Max observed the woman beside him clapping and cheering for Mo, and beamed. 

**#2**

Waking up in the mornings with Max in her apartment was no surprise to Zoey. Everyday she got a little more used to the idea of Max just constantly being there, and it was sometimes jarring when she remembered max had his own home. But it was equally as baffling when Zoey considered the idea of moving in with Max, or vice versa.

It was already her norm, having Max around all the time, and their relationship wouldn’t be to different living together, since they basically already do. Every week for their movie-night-date-nights Max brings more of his stuff over since he knows he’ll probably end up sleeping over after the movie. Zoey’s apartment now contained several of Max’s clothes, his spare toothbrush, men’s shower supplies, and his laptop bag, since he always came over after his own work day to finish assignments with Zoey.

When talking about it with Mo, he said that moving in with Eddie had absolutely no effect on their relationship and that Zoey shouldn’t worry so much about a small change. 

But the problem is that it _wasn’t_ a “small change”. In Zoey’s control-freak mind, it was a crazy big change. Max would have to sell his house and move his stuff over to Zoey’s apartment, and then he would have to do chores and probably cook so Zoey could stop eating takeout everyday, and then he would want to try a help pay rent which would be even more complicated, and what if he doesn’t move in with her but she moves in with him? What if moving in meant marriage? That’s a whole new can of worms, and Zoey’s heart wasn’t ready. 

(The thought of marrying Max Richman, her best friend who’s been there for her since day one, still made her roll around in her bed and giggle like a teenager.)

But when Zoey wakes up to an empty bed, but the sound of Max humming a song and cooking in the other room, made Zoey a little less afraid. When she walks into the main room and wraps her arms around Max’s waist as he cooks, listening to his heartbeat from the back of his chest, Zoey becomes more sure. She wants Max Richman in her home, cooking food and watching TV. She wants him to complain about Zoey’s constant need for a clean house. She wants to yell at him for leaving dirty dishes in the sink, and she wants to cuddle him on the couch every night as they binge another show on Netflix. She wants to kiss Max good morning and good night, watching the beautiful rings on their fingers shine as a symbol of their forever union. 

But Zoey’s not strong enough yet. Maybe one day, but not yet. 

**#3**

Once a year, Zoey never said anything, but it was an unspoken event that warranted no visitors and no speaking. Once a year, Zoey would take a sick day from work and wrap herself in a soft blanket from her parents house, the one Mitch would always use when he would fall asleep watching soap operas. He passed three years prior, and it was the same since then. 

This year was different, because this time, Max Richman was her boyfriend and he could freely express how much he loved her without care in the world. 

Zoey had been laying on her couch when she received the text messages. She ignored the first one, lacking the strength to actually get up and look at the message, but when several more messages hit her phone, she sat up begrudgingly, wrapping the blankets around her tighter and checking the texts. Her heart dropped with guilt when all of them were Max.

There were five messages, the first one being longer than the phone preview would allow. The second was and image, and the third was a minute long video. The fourth ended up being. Short message simply saying “I love you” and the fifth said “check your front door”.

She opened the first messages, and choked on a sob while she read and watched what Max send. 

The first message read:

_ Good morning, my love. You don’t have to respond to these, take your time today and grieve. But I just wanted to tell how much I love you, and how much all your friends and family love you too. I have no clue what you’re going through right now, so I can’t sympathize with you. But I’ll try my best. Today is a sucky day, and I want to make it a little better, love. _

The second message was an image of max smiling into the camera while holding a bouquet of roses in front of her apartment door, with a caption reading:  _ just stopping by, love <3 _

The third message made Zoey choke on her tears and thank any God for the family she has. The video starts with Max, recording in his kitchen. 

“ _ Hey, love,”  _ he spoke, a solemn grin on his face. “ _ Today is a day for you to take your time to recover and heal. I don’t actually know if this will help, but I will actually punch a man for you if you asked, so I’m gonna try my best.”  _ He shrugged on camera, and Zoey chuckled lightly, smiling for the first time that day. “ _ I asked Maggie if this was a good idea, and she gave the green light. So, here it goes.”  _ With a final wave to the camera, the video went black before playing again.

“ _ Okay ZoZo,”  _ Zoey immediately recognized the voice. It was something she hadn't heard in so many years. She covered her mouth to suppress the sudden waves of cries and tears that surfaced. “ _ I’ll count down from three, and you’re gonna play that song again. _ ” 

The video was obviously homemade with the way the camera shook and sometimes strayed from her younger self’s face. In the video, a 10-year-old Zoey nods and begins strumming the guitar after the promised countdown. She remembers this video, it was one her dad recorded on his old camera. Then her younger self’s voice hit her ears.

“ _ You with the sad eyes, _

_ Don’t be discouraged, _

_ Oh, I realize, it’s hard to take courage, _

_ In a world full of people, you can lose sight of it all, _

_ The darkness inside you can make you feel so small.” _

Zoey could no longer contain her hiccups and sobs, and she cried through the song, trying to keep quiet so she could hear better. 

“ _ I see your true colors shining through, _

_ I see your true colors, _

__

_ And that’s why I love you.” _

Pulses of emotion so strong it’s physically hurt travelled up her arms and spine, and she hunched in on herself, sobbing harder. The pain was so strong and she had to clench her fists so tightly to keep it at bay, but something inside of her was inexplicably grateful for the tears and the pain. 

Unbeknownst to Zoey, the video ended with Mitch cheering and clapping for her, and in the video she bowed and giggled when a 15-year-old David went to tickle and scold her for singing that song so often. 

Max reappeared don the screen with a smile. “ _ Zoey, you may not think the same way, but you’re it for me. I love you more than life itself and I can’t imagine ever loving anybody else after you. You’re my forever and my life, and I have every intention to make you happy. I love you, stay safe.” _

Zoey didn’t manage to recover from the video, so she was still crying when she opened up the fourth and fifth messages. 

_ I love you  _ and  _ I left a gift for you at your front door, love. _

Zoey staggered to her apartment's front door still swaddled in the blanket. Upon opening, she found a large bouquet of roses and a small box with a necklace in it. There was a card that read: _ make the best of today and don’t think too much, my love _ in Max’s signature scratchy handwriting. 

The next night, Max arrived at Zoey’s apartment at her request. 

They didn’t leave Zoey’s room until morning.

**+1**

_ “Can I go _

_ Where you go?” _

Zoey sighed and watched her mirror sing a short lyric from a longer song. After the first time her reflection sang to her, Zoey and Mo settled on the name of these songs as Omen Songs. Omen Songs were the rarest form of heart songs besides Zoey herself singing, and they have only ever happened three other times. The first when she received the bad news regarding her father, the second, when she ended up asking out Max, and the third when David and Emily’s baby was born. 

She rinsed her toothbrush and carried on. In the main room, she walked over to the counter and looked into a mug of cooling coffee. 

“ _ Can we always, _

_ Be this close? _

_ Forever and ever and ah-“ _

Arms hugged her waist from behind, snapping her out of her trance. 

“Goodmorning, love,” Max whispered into her ear. “You sleep in for so long, babe, when are you gonna start going to bed at a normal time?” He kissed her hair, and Zoey rolled her eyes, leaning into his arms. 

“Says you, the guy who drinks coffee at twelve AM so he can stay up and ‘troll teh forums’.”

Max spun her around and kissed her nose. “Hey! I just have a cool hobby.” 

“I’ll see if it’s cool or not,” Zoey glanced around to the fridge to her left.

“ _ Take me out, _

_ Take me home, _

_ Forever and ever you're  _

_ My, my, my , my, _

_ Lover. _ ”

Max excused himself from the room and Zoey stared into toaster, hoping for more of a hint from the omen song. 

“ _ Swear to be over dramatic and true to my _

_ Lover.” _

The Omen Song seemed to end there, and Zoey was filled with a lovely sense of hope. The song was happy and bright, romantic and so beautiful that it had everything to do with Max. Zoey made a checklist in her brain of how to make the day go perfect, starting with just talking to him. She quickly pivoted on her heels to go find the man in question, but her heart plummeted with what she saw. 

Max. Holding an open ring box. On one knee. Gazing up at her with a gorgeous smile and flour in his hair. 

“You can probably see what’s going on here,” Max cleared his throat and looked embarrassed. “I, uh, tried to make you pancakes but I failed. I also had a speech but…” he trailed off and spared a glance to Zoey’s face. “Marry me? Oh shoot, love, come here. Don’t cry.”

Zoey didn’t realize tears were falling until Max stood and pulled her into his embrace. Before the hug could be any longer than five seconds, Zoey pulled away and grabbed the hand that Max held the ring box with.

“Marry me.” Zoey breathed. Max gaped.

“Okay, wait, hold on-“

“I love you more than words can express,” Zoey sniffled. “The ring box is open and we both would say yes to each other anyway, so everything’s fair game, right?”

Max chuckled warmly. “This is not the way I ever thought this would go. Ever.” He put the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. 

“You’re full of surprises, Max Clarke.” 

“Wait, who said I was taking your name? Zoey, you’re ruining my proposal!”


	3. Do you trust me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an AU where Max is already manager on the sixth floor and Zoey is the new manager of the fourth floor. 
> 
> Ps, they’ve never met before, and Max may or may not be super ooc.
> 
> Pps, Zoey is very stressed and anxious ;)
> 
> Ppps, these chapters are getting super long so the editing is s l a c k i n g. Sorry if there are mistakes :”D

-

Zoey remembered her first Bake Off, and in her mind castle the memory was put in a box labeled “Most Stressful Times of My Life”.

It had started when Joan was called to the sixth floor of SPRQ Point for a meeting with Ava Price.

She spent all of ten minutes up there before storming out of the elevator, jumping on a chair in front of Zoey’s team, and yelling: “We are having a Bake Off, people! Pick up the pace and do not let that sixth floor win, or it’s not just going to be the bake-off you’re gonna lose.”

With a final stomp and a hard glare at the coders, she returned to her office and began her work. Zoey turned to where she knew the brogrammers would be to ask what the hell a ‘bake-off’ was, but Leif and his goons were doing the last thing she expected. They were _working._ Of course, they always did their job just fine but this was different. The way they typed was frantic and determined, everybody on Zoey’s team worked harder than she had ever seen them work. It almost made her cry. Even Tobin was focused.

“Leif,” Zoey stood from her seat and wandered over to the coder, who didn’t even react to her call. “What is going on right now? What is a bake-off?”

Tobin was the one to swivel and took to her in his office chair. “Z-Dog, you are in for a treat,” he clasped his hand together as if he were praying for Zoey’s safety. “A bake-off is a high-speed, life-or-death battle between the sixth and fourth floor. It's a race to create a prototype for DMD first.” Zoey chewed her lip.

Leif finally acknowledged her existence with a scoff. “C’mon, Manager Clarke, work harder if you don’t want to, y’know- get fired.” Tobin laughed and high fived Leif, who already had his hand up to him.

With that, Zoey grimaced and nodded, stiffly speed-walking to her desk to continue working. What she was also surprised by was the sheer amount of code and emails put into the project. Leif had contributed the most besides Zoey, but they were already hours ahead of Zoey’s carefully crafted work schedule. This bake-off thing was far more serious than she thought.

Her computer dinged softly with an email from somebody named Maxwell. She clicked on in, stress levels skyrocketing seeing the job name _‘Manager of Engineering, SPRQ Point Sixth Floor’_. The email spread across her screen, and the contents of the email made her reread it over and over again.

_I heard the Fourth Floor just got a new Engineering Manager. This means I just got a new rival. Welcome to your first Bake-Off, Zoey Clarke. Enjoy. :)_

_\- sincerely, Maxwell Richman_

Zoey’s heart thudded painfully. Not a threatening email at all. Her blood pressure was rising and she was on the verge of freaking out. Maybe she already was. Joan popped her head out of the office.

“Zoey,” Joan called. “Come here. I have a task for you on the sixth floor.”

Zoey slumped over on her desk. _Great._

With heavy steps, she trudged over to her boss’s office. “Yes, Joan?”

“Deliver these papers for me.” She reached into her desk and pulled out a large stack of papers, letting them fall onto the table with a thud. “To Ava Price. She wants a fair Bake Off, so these are the plans for the Chirp.” Zoey gulped and nodded, gently picking up the stack and walking out, picking up the pace to a light job when Joan began to yell at her to “pick up the pace, Clarke”.

The elevator ride to the sixth floor was short and tense, despite nobody else being there with her. She jogged out of the elevator and was hit with just how dark the whole floor was. It was cool colored compared to the fourth floor, all the modern lighting being dim shades of light blue, green, and purple. Zoey was hit with a sudden wave of jealousy upon seeing a raw fish bar, an obvious upgrade from her floor’s oatmeal bar. A man with dark short hair stood and eyed Zoey suspiciously.

“Hello,” he began walking towards her, the elevator sliding shut behind her. “Who are you? How can I help you?” It's like him just standing made the rest of the floor stare at her judgingly.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. “I’m Zoey Clarke, from the fourth floor and-“

The whole room collectively gasped, and one girl with dyed hair yelled, “Why is a Fourth Floor loser up here in the winner’s circle?” The rest of the floor seemed to cackle at that, and Zoey flushed with embarrassment.

The man before her only nodded and put out his hands for her to shake. “So you’re Zoey Clarke, Engineering Manager.”

She gulped and nodded, shifting her arms so she could hold the papers in one hand and shake his hand with her now empty one. “Yup, that’s me.”

He smiled. “My name is Maxwell Richman, Manager of Engineering,” Zoey paled. “What can I do for you on the sixth floor.”

She stiffened. Today was shaping up to be awful. “I’m looking to deliver these papers to Ava Price for the…” she trailed off. The fact that she was even scared to say the word ‘bake-off’ spoke volumes about her stress.

Max only smiled with mirth and grabbed her papers with one hand. “Well then. I’ll deliver these for you so you don’t have to talk to scary-boss-lady. I don't know if you would be able to handle it, seeing as you’re…” he gestured vaguely in her direction. “Go back to your floor. Have a nice day!”

He strode off confidently and Zoey pivoted back to the elevator, back burning with the feeling of stares on her form. The elevator couldn’t come quickly enough. Once on the elevator, Zoey slumped over and the pent up tension from her body released, but the anxiety remained.

This was going to be a long few days, Zoey already knew.

* * *

The few days, Zoey woke as slowly and sluggishly as she normally did, as her neighbor belted another song by some artist Zoey didn't know the name of. She went through her routine, as usual, fixing her hair and face. Then, the bake-off hit her like a bus, and she would quicken the pace, chugging her coffee, and head out the door.

At work, the atmosphere from the first day of the bake-off had lingered, and everybody was working just as hard as previous days. She quickly slid into her seat and chugged away at the project, typing out new code and refining the old versions. Emails and messages from her team came omg aster than she could read them, and a new code was constantly being added. Zoey had so many windows open, each either being emails, messages, code, or prototype interfaces. She hadn’t moved from her desk in four hours, but she still felt like she just ran a marathon.

Ten days after the initial announcement, the elevator dinged in the middle of the work day and the Engineering team from the sixth floor stepped out in a line, forming a clump in front of Zoey’s team’s work area. Ava Price was at the front of the line, and Zoey had never seen anybody look more _pissed_.

“Somebody on this floor has been stealing information from my team.” The way she spoke was strained as if it took all her willpower to stop herself from going on a rampage.

Zoey glanced around, gaping. The coders behind her shook their heads or shrugged, obviously just as confused as Zoey was. Leif stood up as if he was about to speak, but Joan beat him to the punch, speeding out of her office and glaring at the sixth-floor team.

“What in the world is going on, Ava?” She growled, standing between Zoey and the mob. “Who's leaking information?” Zoey let out a sigh of relief, as Ava’s attention was redirected to Joan.

"Joan, we’ll talk in private. Everybody else, report to the bleachers, we’ll talk to you all in a moment.” Ava yelled, and with that, the two women entered Joan’s office while everybody else moved to the bleachers.

Before entering said office, Joan and Ava called in sync, “The bake off is paused.”

On the bleachers, the fourth and sixth floor were separated, a visible space between the two factions. Both floors busied themselves by talking amongst each other or going on their phones, both teams avoiding each other. Zoey placed herself at the top, right next to the sixth floor. The person sitting next to her happened to be a certain Maxwell Richman. He leaned towards her to whisper.

  
  


“How are you enjoying the bake-off?” He asked, seeming kind enough. Zoey’s heart stopped, then started back up at twice it’s original pace.

“I don’t know,” she whispered back. “I wanted this job because I liked the low-stress workplace, but right now, I’m slowly getting closer to entering cardiac arrest the longer this bake-off goes on.” He seemed to enjoy her suffering, only laughing softly.

“Trust me when I say this,” What funny thing, for her ‘rival’ to ask her to trust him. “but I hate the bake-off as much as you do. Still, it’s the most entertaining thing that happens here. You grow to like it.”

Zoey scoffed. “I can’t see myself liking this ever. This is really bad for my blood pressure.”

Max grimaced. “Yeah, it gets heated. But I’ve worked here for over five years and they actually kinda get old after a while. Sometimes, I like to spice things up.”

“How so?”

Max shrugged. “Dunno. Sometimes I argue with people on the fourth floor. I wanted to do something big this time around, but the mole beat me to it.”

Zoey’s brows furrowed. “And isn't this whole bake-off bad workplace behavior? There’s nothing friendly or polite about it.”

Max shrugged and lowered his voice even more. “I think about it like a little friendly competition. As long as nothing from last year repeats itself, there’s no reason to scream to HR about it.” Zoeys eyes widened.

“Last year? What happen last year that was so bad-“

“We have a mole among us, and the bake-off is going to be paused until further notice.” Joan's voice broke through their conversation, leaving Zoey fearing last year’s bake-off. “I can assure you the fourth will work hard to find the mole and have them terminated.” Ava cleared her throat and grinned unkindly.

“Or, the mole can fess up right now and we can deal with it as fast as possible. Don’t want to keep Danny Michael Davis waiting, now would we?” The way she ended her statement with a chuckle made it almost seem like she was nervous.

Ava spun on her heels, and the entirety of the sixth floor residents got ready to leave. Zoey flinched as Max rested his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re fun, Zoey. Looks like our ‘rivalry’-“ He made air quotes with his fingers. “- will have to be put on hold.” Max winked at Zoey, and she cringed, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t find it the least bit attractive. And very much infuriating.

“Of course.” She said eloquently. “Well, it was nice to properly talk to you,” Zoey perked up, remembering something. “Oh yeah! Before you go, what happened last year?”

But Max was already standing and about to leave. He turned to her and smiled. “We’ll talk later. Bye, Zoey.”

Zoey’s face contorted in confusion as she watched his retreating body. Somebody cleared their throat behind Zoey, and she stood up, turning to face whoever it was, only to be met by Tobin’s cocky smirk.

“Looks like the Zoeynado got some insider info.” He spoke in his usual annoying way. Leif from beside him face palmed.

“Dude, calm down. Zoey, you don’t have to tell us what you guys were talking about, but you shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.” Leif reasoned, folding his arms.

Zoey brushed them off. “There was no insider info there, you totally misread the conversation.” She laughed in her usual awkward way. “No need to worry about any fraternizing here. I was just… seeing what I was going against.” Zoey mentally slapped herself. She just fraternized with the enemy.

Leif nodded in what seemed like understanding. “Great. And I assure you, we will find the mole. Bake-offs are fair play, Zoey. I hope you know that.” It almost sounded like an accusation.

Tobin made an explosion sound effect and dropped an imaginary mic. “You just got told, mole.” Leif, once again, shushed his friend.

“Don’t call her a mole. Our manager can’t be a mole. If she were, she’d get fired.” The two men stalked away, and Zoey grew flushed.

“You’re not very subtle, you know!” She shouted weakly, but they were already gone, and she was completely alone on the bleachers, looking like a fool.

* * *

The next time Zoey traveled up to the sixth floor, it was about 16 days into the bake-off, 3 days of those being a pause, and she was going to speak with Max. She wasn’t sent for errands, she was going off her own accord. Zoey was a girl on a mission.

On the first day of the Bake-Off Pause, Zoey decides to try and do a little digging into the sixth floor. This made her kind of a mole, but she wanted the bake-off to be done with, so taking it off pause was the best option, even though it was a nice breather period.

She researched each of Max’s team’s backgrounds, including Max himself and learned nothing, except for the fact that four years ago, Max was the manager of engineering on the fourth floor.

‘ _He used to be in my position. Not so cool now, hot shot.’_

Despite the exciting(exciting only to Zoey,) tidbit of information, she had drawn a blank. Everybody on the sixth floor was clear. Checking the fourth floor was a bust as well, and it made Zoey feel terrible for checking her team.

Going on day two of searching, Zoey was connecting weird dots in weird places. What if Leif was the mole, and he was secretly working for the sixth floor despite being on the fourth floor every day and was giving info to Tobin? What if George, the new guy from Zoey’s team, was leaking info from the sixth floor into the fourth floor? Anything seemed possible and explained the incredible speed their team was moving at, but the sad part was that Zoey knew her theories were never going to be true. This bake-off officially drained Zoey of all sanity. Until she noticed something.

Every day, George left his desk for at least ten minutes at the same time. He looked suspicious each time, and Zoey was almost sure that after he came back, their speed on the project doubled.

Zoey had to shake her head because she was insane. Until it was nearing that time for George to get up and leave for ten minutes.

“Leaving again, George?” Zoey questioned casually as he passed by. He was a short man for his age, with brown curly hair and eyes. He almost looked like her brother’s shorter counterpart. George froze and turned to look at her, a strained grin on his face. He was intimidated, and an odd satisfaction came from seeing him scared of her. Maybe Zoey was a sadist. She prayed to God she wasn’t a sadist. “You seem to be coming and going quite frequently lately.”

He laughed it off, but Zoey caught the nervous tremble of his voice. “Nothing to be worried about, Miss Zoey. Just going to take care of some business.” Zoey raised her brow and inwardly screamed at the formalities. It made her sound so old, even though George was young and just ended his internship to become an actual employee.

“Business?” She questioned. George began to sweat.

“Just a favor for a friend, Miss Zoey. Don’t worry.”

Zoey pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s okay, George. Also, just Zoey is fine.”

He bowed awkwardly. “Of course.” And with that, he sped over to the elevator and jammed the buttons. Weird kid.

Zoey slowly stood and crept towards George’s desk in the very back. When she arrived, she quickly logged into his computer using the password he had on a sticky note next to the computer(she half felt bad for the kid, leaving his password for anyone to see). When she logged in, George had just received a message five minutes before him leaving a very familiar person. Zoey’s jaw dropped and she raced to the elevator and headed up to the eighth floor, a floor that was unoccupied due to renovations.

_MAXWELL RICHMAN: Come on up to the eighth floor. I have more code for when this pause ends._

* * *

When Zoey breached the meeting on the eighth floor, she couldn't believe it.

‘ _I was right. It was actually George. Holy crap.’_

There they were: Max was giving him a USB, which Zoey assumed contained code from the sixth floor. She could barely believe the sixth floor’s manager was the mole. Deciding she has seen enough, Zoey slipped away and took the stairs down to avoid making too much noise.

That brought her to today, on the sixth floor of SPRQ Point, the third day on the Bake-Off Pause. Max got out of his seat with a smile upon seeing her enter, and she marched to his desk with the most confidence she could muster.

“Hey! Zoey, my favorite fourth-floor loser, what’s up?” His team seemed undisturbed by her presence this time, but that was the least of her worries. “Did you find anything on the mole.” He whispered. Just like that, Zoey’s confidence completely vanished, along with the speech she had planned.

Instead of something forceful and confident, she stammered and searched for words that weren’t there.

“Uh, can we talk? Alone? The two of us?”

Max raised a brow, but he knew what she meant. Zoey was still mortified. It sounded so weird, and she felt bad just for talking to him.

“Oh, of course. Follow me.” He grabbed her hands and pulled her through the sixth floor, waving to other workers as he went. The sixth floor was exceptionally large, definitely larger than the fourth floor, which looked pathetic in comparison.

They arrived at a small room in the corner of the sixth floor, and Max opened the door for her to walk in. “We have a break room like the one on the fourth floor.” He let the door shut behind him as he entered. “Y’know, I used to work on the fourth floor-“

“Yeah, you had my job. I know. I looked you up.” In her head, she thought she kinda sounded like a cool spy or something. Hearing it out loud, she just sounded extremely creepy.

Max hesitated. “Okay…” he drawled. “Why are you looking people up, Miss Zoey?” God, he and George _were_ working together. She steeled herself for her truth bomb.

“I know you’re the mole.” Max’s smile dropped into a deep frown, and a flash of terror gleamed in his eyes. The satisfaction came back, only it was twice as rewarding as this was Max she was talking to. “I saw you and George on the eighth floor. You gave him a USB with what I suspect to be code.” She grinned triumphantly.

Max folded his arms over his chest and leaned on a table of the break room. “Well, Zoey, how do you know if there was actually code in the USB? Could be anything, really.” Zoey laughed internally and his fruitless attempt to save himself.

“Uh, yeah, I know it’s code.” Two points to Zoey, zero to Max. “I logged into his computer and saw your messages.” Max did the infuriating thing where he raised his brow and smiled condescendingly. Subtract a point from Zoey. “God, that sounded so much better in my head.” She whined.

“Reading other people's messages, now are we?” Max was beginning to sound way too proud. “I’m shocked, Zo. You’ve also, apparently, been doing unapproved background checks on me. Isn’t that right?” Max pushed himself off the table, closing a large portion of the gap between him and Zoey.

Zoey gulped and ducked her head. “Your whole team, actually. And my own.” He was aggravatingly thrilled, but Zoey had no more to say anything.

“Woah!” He laughed. “Somebody’s gonna have to tell HR about a breach of privacy.”

“Well, nobody can tell HR when they get fired for leaking information during a bake-off.”

Max chuckled. “Touché.”

Zoey sighed and spared a glance up at Max. “Why are you leaking info to my youngest team member? If it were anyone else that found out, you would’ve been fired by now.”

His eyes lit up. “You’re not going to tell anybody? You’re gonna keep the secret?”

Zoey raised a finger to his lips. “Answer my question and maybe I will tell. I don’t know.” She pretended to contemplate by tapping her pointer finger against her pursed lips. Max rolled his eyes.

“Remember when I said I wanted to spice things up?”

“Yes? But what does that have to do with- oh.”

Max’s smile was filled with mirth. “Yeah.” An idea appeared to enter his brain, and with the way he was looking at her, Zoey knew she would be a part of it.

“Zo,” he leaned in even further, completely bursting her bubble of personal space. “How about we compromise? I won’t tell anyone about your scavenger hunts, and you won’t tell anybody I’m the mole?”

Zoey backed herself into a wall and Max followed right with her. “If it’s the only way…”

“C’mon, Zo,” she was going to have to add the nickname to the list of infuriating things Max Richman does. “Do you trust me?”

Zoey rolled the idea around in her mind. Really, there was only one answer. “Fine. I won’t tell. Promise you won’t either.”

Max crossed two fingers over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

Zoey scoffed. “Who knew you’re such a child.”

“What can I say? I’m a child at heart.” They exited the break room, Max returning to his desk and wishing Zoey a farewell, and Zoey making a beeline for the elevator.

Once the door closed and she was hidden from sight, she slouched over and swore enough to make a sailor blush.


	4. I’ve got you + It’s Freezing. Come here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So my headcanons for drunk Zoey are as follows:
> 
> 1) super emotional  
> 2) crazy horny  
> 3) Too honest  
> 4) all of the above ;)
> 
> Also double posting?? Two chaps in one day?? In my good christian suburbs?? I think so stinky,
> 
> Once again, no editing bc I just wrote a Thicc story

Max didn’t exactly know why he was still awake at 2 o’clock in the morning, but he couldn’t get his brain to effectively shut up enough to even think of sleeping. Instead, Max decided to catch up on some Law & Order. Sleep was something he wouldn’t get for a while. 

At around 2:30, he received a knock on the door and heard singing outside. The voice was obviously female, and she was singing very, very loud. Max jumped out of his skin when the voice began to sing, so he ran to the laundry room to grab a large vacuum. He’s watched ghostbusters to know that singing women at your door in the early hours of the morning meant a ghost was here to snuggle into his soul and steal his body. Or maybe he just watched too much ghostbusters. And the woman wasn’t really singing, she was just shouting with rhythm. 

Taking careful steps toward, Max swung the front door open, only to find he was aiming a vacuum at his best friend, who was currently shouting the lyrics to “I Think I Love You”. Max knew the song by heart, and lowered his vacuum hose. 

“Zoey, what are you doing?” He whispered incredulously. “Quiet down too, I have old neighbors who have sensitive ears.” 

Zoey stopped yelling to smile with a lovesick expression and stare at Max. “I’m serenading you, dude, accept.” She wobbled on her legs as if she was toddler and strolled into Max’s home like she owned the place. 

“Uh, we’ll, mi casa es su casa,” Zoey appeared to not even hear him, too busy gazing at him with the same dopey grin. It only became really weird when Zoey didn’t stop after five minutes. Max decides it was up to him to break the silence.

“Why were you yodeling outside my house? I could get a noise complaint and then get evicted. Also,” he sniffed and cringed at what he smelled. “How many drinks have you had tonight?” Zoey completely ignored the first question.

“Enough to see how much of an idiot I am.” She explained, tugging on Max’s hand and leading him to his living room where she sat him down on his sectional. Lifting one leg, she straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck, breath fanning across Max’s face. She did all this, as if this was as common as movie nights and like Max would be perfectly cool with this. Which he  _ wasn’t. _ This wasn’t  _ normal. _

Max gulped and took a risk. “Zo? What are you doing?” Instead of answering, Zoey took both of his hands and wrapped them around her waist. And Max let them stay there, for whatever reason. 

“I’ve missed you all day, Max,” she spoke as if that explained anything currently happened. Every movement from either of them caused their noses to brush against each other. “I’m sorry I took so long to realize. If I’m being real with you right not, I really really love you ‘cause you’re so sexy, Maxy.” That was new, the nickname. “Kiss me, please.”

Max would’ve actually kissed Zoey if this were any other situation, but she was drunk off her ass, and whether or not she meant it, it didn’t matter. He understood why he couldn’t comply, but that didn’t mean the longing wasn’t there. 

“Zo, you’re extremely drunk.” He huffed out a laugh. “I can’t kiss you if you’re drunk.”

“The hell you can’t!” Zoey became restless, squirming in his lap. The flush on Max’s cheeks grew to his whole body and he gaped at the intoxicating woman. “I’m not too drunk, I’ve just fucking ascended, Maxine.” 

That was a telltale sign so lift her off his lap(he resisted the urge to spin her around in his arms,she was so light,), something he should’ve done a while ago. Setting her down on her weak legs, he guided her to his guest room despite her cries of protest. 

“Love, you need rest. You are extremely drunk.” Feeling the walls for the light, he continued. “I’ll give you one of my shirts, and you can sleep in here for tonight. How did you get here?” He flicked on the switch and flooded the room with light. Zoey grumbled and snuggled into Max’s side, trying to get the light out of her eyes. His heart melted then, for the beautiful girl in his arms.

“I walked because I’m fuckin’ hardcore like that.” Max gaped.

“Seriously? You walked here, drunk, and managed to not get lost or kidnapped? That was dangerous, Zoey.” A small part of him wished he had been there to protect her, but the other half of him said she could take her of herself, and he listened. 

“No, you sexy Adonis man.” She flopped onto the guest bed. “I had to call an Uber.” Ah. That made much more sense. Max flushed at the compliment.

Stepping back through the door, Max smiled sheepishly. “I’m going to get you an old shirt. Just… relax, okay?” Zoey shot him a thumbs up and he closed the door behind him as he left for his room. 

  
  


Finding a shirt and shorts that would fit her okay wasn’t too difficult, but he knew she would still be swamped with her dainty form. In the privacy of his room, he took a moment to breathe. The most important woman in his life right now just came to his house drunk, serenaded him, confessed to him, straddled him, and was about to sleep over. Max scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. God, tonight was weird. 

He made his way back to guest room, but paused when he heard a small sniffle and a sob from said room. Max ran the remained distance and flung the door open to see Zoey curled up into a pillow, crying. He gently set the clothes on the edge of the bed and sat Zoey up, wiping away tears away with his thumbs. 

“Woah, woah, love, what’s wrong?” He fretted. Zoey only shook her head and cupped his cheeks with shaky hands. “I’ve got you.”

“You don’t love me anymore.” She determined. “And you don’t want to kiss me.” Max could only chuckle and how wrong she was. 

“I still love you, baby.” He grabbed the clothes and set them on her lap, tearing himself away from her grasp. “And I always want to kiss you. But you’re drunk, and I would just be taking advantage of you. Try again when you’re sober babe.” Zoey pouted and took the clothes while standing. 

“I’m too scared when I’m sober. I love you, Max, both sober and drunk.” She began to take off her shirt and Max screeched.

“Zoey! Wait for me to leave before you start changing, please.” He turned away and covered his beet red face, sitting down on the bed.

The wail that came from Zoey when he covered his eyes was full of anguish and despair. 

“See?” She cried. “You hate me, Max! You can’t even look at me, I’m awful.”

“That is absolutely not true, Zo.” Max stated vehemently. “I just don’t want to watch you change. It’s rude.”

Zoey only sniffed and continued dressing. “I’m done,” She croaked. Max turned around slowly, and sighed with relief when she was actually clothed. He paused, however, upon seeing her. The way his shirt fit on Zoey was the nearest thing to an angel Max thinks he might ever see. With her tube socks, baggy basketball shorts, UCLA shirt, and red nose and cheeks, she looked absolutely perfect. Max’s hands itches with the need to hold her close and never let go.

“Good job,” he sighed and opened the sheets on the bed. “Go to sleep, love. If you need anything, I’m down the hall and to the right.” He was about to leave when he felt a gentle tug on his long sleeve pajama shirt. 

“It’s freezing, come here,” she whispered. “Please, I’ll put pillows between us, I won’t try anything, and I’ll stay dressed I promise. Just stay with me. I’m cold.” The way she teared up and pleaded made her sound like a child, and Max felt his heart twinge with guilt.

“I, Uh,” Looking back, Max swears he was about to say ‘no’, but Zoey was very persuasive when drunk. “Fine. But I’m putting pillows between us, okay?” Zoey’s eyes lit up and she squealed. Max let an exhausted breath. Drunk Zoey was very emotional. 

He turned off the lights and slipped into bed. “Goodnight, love.”

Zoey giggles right back. “Goodnight, Max.”

And when Zoey woke up the next morning with a pounding headache while lying on top of a sleeping Max’s chest, snuggled into his arms, she may or may not have pretended to stay asleep for a short while longer.

She could have an existential crisis later. 


	5. Because I love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this was kind of an excuse to write kiss scenes,, sorry ;)
> 
> Zoey begins to date Simon, but feels as though something were missing from her life.

Nice mornings like these were hard to come by for Zoey. When the sun is shining on her face, bathing her in a delicate heat as she wakes up from her body's internal alarm, rather than the rude awakening Mo likes to give her. The one thing that would’ve made the morning nicer would be for the pit of guilt and dread in her stomach just leaving her be for the day. In her mind, she recounted the events that brought her to this moment.

* * *

  
  
Zoey has only heard of people cheating or having short flings while committed to a different person. The idea of cheating, for Zoey, felt like outright saying “I’m sorry my faithful significant other, you’re not good enough for me, therefore I have to find someone else to keep me satisfied.”  


Three weeks ago, on the day Simon asked her out, she promised herself she would never cheat on him. She couldn’t stomach the thought of putting Simon in another situation like his marriage. The guilt from that still clings to Zoey’s mind like a tumor, and she could never begin to apologize enough for what she had done to Jessica and Simon(even though he denied it was her fault, Zoey definitely played into the break up). 

The first two weeks were nice and easy, in Zoey’s opinion. Dates were small, common things, like going out for cheesequakes or going over to each other’s house after work. They agreed that taking their relationship slow was the best course of action, Simon barely halfway through healing from his breakup with Jessica and his father's death, while Zoey was only just now starting to grieve. “Slow and steady wins the race, right?” He had told her, Zoey smiled and agreed. 

During that two week period, Zoey had told Max(the Max she had just hooked up with less than a week prior, she couldn’t believe it) the news about her and Simon’s relationship. Max, in his usual Max-fashion, was amazingly supportive, and Zoey wondered how one person could be so amazing. The kiss still made her feel awful, however. She didn’t realize until almost a week after telling him that he had begun to ignore her. 

The change was slow, she realized, starting with him making up excuses as to why he couldn’t hang out with her. He would say “oh, I have a job interview”, or “sorry, Zo, I have a date with the Star Trek saga.” Zoey trusted Max enough to know he was telling the truth, and she kept asking until eventually, she just forgot to ask all together. It wasn’t until three weeks into her and Simon's relationship that she realized something crucial was missing from her whole life. 

There has been zero interaction between Zoey and Max for almost two weeks. She knew she was missing something, and Max was it. All at once, everything little thing Max did for her flooded her memory and she felt a deep sense of guilt. 

Zoey needed some more Max in her life(and to talk about their relationship. That was a priority.), but storming to his house with little warning in the evening wasn’t the best idea. 

Max opened the door after three knocks, looking pretty tired for 8pm. 

“Zoey, you actually came?” He croaked, leaning against the door frame with one shoulder. “What’s up?”

A scent of chocolate and mint hit her nostrils and pleasantly raised her spirits. “Hi, Max, we haven’t been hanging out recently, so I came over.” She explained and sniffed again. “Are you… baking? You bake?”

Stepping aside, Max allowed Zoey into his lovely smelling home. “Yup,” he popped the ‘p’. “The food network finally got to me, and I really wanted some chocolate-mint cookies.”

“Well,” The room was slightly tense, extremely different from usual hangouts with Max. Usually, everything was smooth and easy with him, like coffee. Coffee was easier than people. “I hope you're keen on sharing, because I intend to talk with you.”

They both walked into the kitchen, Zoey sitting herself on the empty counter and Max leaning against the oven door. 

The silence that filled the room was painfully awkward, the only sounds coming from the oven, making a quiet whirring noise consistently. They were best friends, they weren’t supposed to have awkward silences. Zoey stares at Max’s face, completely emotionless and oddly tired. Everything Zoey wanted to say was immediately lost in her mouth, anything she could’ve said sounding accusatory. All she wanted to do was talk and hang on with her best friend, but the man standing before her felt an absolute stranger. 

After a few tense minutes, Max cleared his throat as spoke quietly. “So, are we just going to stare at each other?” The soft timbre of his voice made Zoey hurt somewhere inside. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

Zoey gnawed on her bottom lip anxiously. “I do, but…” Max stared expectantly. “I thought about it and I feel like you’re ignoring me, for lack of a better word.” Zoey’s voice shrunk with each second she spoke, and Max’s eyes flicked to stare directly into hers, face finally showing the barest hints of emotion. His lips rugged into a frown and his brows furrowed. 

“A little bit.” Zoey’s mouth fell open silently. 

“Wow, I, uh…” she trailed off, about to ask why when Max beat her to it. 

“I’m sorry, I just needed time to think.” He ran a hand through his messy hair before moving to Zoey’s sides, also jumping up onto his counter with barely enough space for them both to sit. “The girl I just… you know… went off and got with another guy before we could even talk.” He looked down and clutched his arms to his chest before releasing. “And it hurts more when you couldn’t even have a chance, and when it’s the girl you…”

“I’m so sorry, Max.” She reached over and squeezed one of his limp hands. “We should’ve talked, but Simon asked and I just wanted things to be easy, and Simon is so  _ easy _ , but-“

“Life isn’t meant to always be easy, Zo.” He cut her off, prying his hand away from hers. 

“I know, but I need it to be right now.” Desperation seeped into her voice, and she mentally cursed herself for sounding that way. “Being with you- in a relationship- isn’t easy to me and being your best friend is so much better than anything more.” The hurt that flashed across Max’s face was immediate and jarring, and Zoey felt slightly taken aback. 

“No, I get it, Zoey.” He grumbled. “You just don’t like me, you don’t have to sugar coat it.” Zoey made to argue but Max kept on running. “I just want you to stop playing with my feelings. You led me on once unintentionally, but you can’t just kiss me and tell me we can’t be ‘anything more.’” Zoey tries to grab his hand again, a lump forming in her throat, but Max folded his hands away from her. 

“Max, wait, that’s not fair at all-“

“No, Zoey. It’s totally fair.” He finally looked her in the eyes again. Hurt and anguish filled his expression, and it hit Zoey harder than anything ever had. “I’m so tired of waiting for the same answer. You’re with Simon now. That’s a big enough hint for me to back off. But I can’t help thinking about what would happen if…” his voice faded into barely whisper as he turned his head directly away from Zoey.

“If.. what?” Zoey felt almost scared to ask, heart thudding wildly. 

“If I ever had a chance with you. What would happen. But you’re right. That’s unfair.” Max shook his head and chuckled sadly. “Zoey, you make me feel way too much, way too quickly.”

“Max, you’re not easy for me because…” she couldn’t finish. But when Max looked down at her so lost, she found the right words. 

“Because I love you. I really do love you, Max.” Her shoulders felt so much lighter, yet equally as much heavier following her confession. “I love you so much, that being with you is  _ it _ . If we were to ever break up, it’s not going on my list of past failed, complicated, unnecessary, etcetera, relationships.” She grinned sadly, her turn to look away. “We can’t be just a fling or a short relationship that I’ll eventually get over. You are my forever, Max. Being with you for me means life, marriage, family, everything.” 

“So why Simon?” Max choked out. “He’s amazing, but if I’m the one who’s your forever, then why hold back?” 

“Didn’t you hear me?” They were shouting now, staring each other directly in the eyes, air charged with heat and something else. “If I lose you, that’s it! I can’t risk that you, Max, please.”

He quickly pushed forwards, only having to move a few centimeters to brush his lips with hers, if only for a few seconds. He pulled away with a pop, electricity shooting up Zoey’s spine, and she sighed blissfully, mind completely blank save for the feel of Max’s lips, something she hasn’t felt in weeks. 

Max continued on to rest his forehead against hers, whispering things that sounded like apologies, but every word he said entered one ear and went out the other. Zoey was too fixated on his moving lips, so unbelievably soft and smooth, fitting beautifully with her own. Her mind screamed for her to look away and end whatever was happening at the moment and leave, but her body pushed forward, giving into the undeniable pull of Max Richman and kissing him mid-sentence. 

Max immediately reciprocated, making Zoey’s heart leap with joy while he moved his mouth against hers. The sound of their lips parting was intoxicating, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Max grabbed the underside of her thighs and carried to his sectional, laying her down without parting their lips so he could lean over her for a better angle. 

And a better angle it was, with Zoey’s hair fanned across the couch cushions and her arms tangling themselves in the soft, dark curls of Max’s hair. Breaths were soft and quiet, escaping into the world every few seconds between kisses.   


This is where Zoey was meant to be: with Max, his arms cradling her close to him to never let go, and her own around his neck, on his arms- anywhere on Max they could reach. With each gentle nip to her bottom lip made her realize one important thing.

To hell with it.

To hell with her fears about Max, the future, and their relationship. This is where she needed to be for the rest of her short life. Max was her everything, her life, home, and family. He always made everything so much brighter when they were so depressing and dreary. He was hers and she was his. 

But then he pulled away, lips parting with a soft smack. “We can’t do this, Zoey.” He pleaded, voice deliciously hoarse and eyes still closed. Zoey’s own eyes flickered open to stare at the man before her. Her eyes locked into his pinkish-red mouth, and her hand moved on its own accord, thumb gently brushing over his warm and swollen bottom lip. She couldn’t look away.

“You’re completely right.” The spell that had befallen her didn’t seem to be leaving, clouding her mind with a fog of  _ Max.  _

“You have a boyfriend. This is really wrong.” Max leaned forward again, nose braising lazily against her cheek. A long, high-pitched beep sounded throughout the room. “I think my cookies are done.” 

“Yeah, your cookies might be done.” She couldn’t care less about what she was saying. Max moved to get up, and in a flurry of panic, Zoey pulled him back to her. 

“Kiss me.” She ground out. Max inhaled deeply and sat her up on his lap, giving Zoey room to lean in even further than before. He was so close, yet too far. Way too far for her liking. “Please, kiss me.”

“Okay.”

— 

That led Zoey to the present moment, sitting up half-naked in bed beside a shirtless Max Richman. At his house.

She buried her face in her hands. Thank god she didn’t live with Simon.  


_ Simon. Her ever faithful boyfriend. The one she swore to never cheat on. The one she just cheated on with Max Richman. _   


“Holy fu-”


	6. Don’t ever let me go. + I’ve loved you for years.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to help get out of a serious writers block that just now popped up, so this chapter may be all over the place and wonky... apologies :””)
> 
> This chap is a childhood friends au ;)
> 
> I’m thinkin about writing more of that au where Max is a little turd working on the sixth floor and Zoey is stressed... what do you think ?? ;)
> 
> Once again, no editing we die like men

Max Richman was raised in a large apartment complex in the middle of LA, the exact apartment number being 2F-14. 2F-14 was his home, since his parents could barely afford to keep their own cars. He knew everyone on his floor, and which apartment they lived in, like an older kid named Danny in 2F-10, or the old guy in 2F-04 with his deaf daughter. He didn’t have many friends in the apartment, being only six and severely introverted for his age. 

Some days, Max would get bored and his parents would take him out of the apartment to talk to the family in 2F-10. When they went there, Danny would watch him and they would sometimes go out into the long hallway of rooms. One day, when Danny was watching him, he learned the most pivotal piece of information in his life. 

“Don’t go into this room, little dude.” Danny gestured to the door of 2F-12. “It’s like, totes haunted. Bad vibes man.” He leaned down to whisper in Max’s ear. “Whoever goes in there turns into a ghost, hungry for your soul!” Danny jumped and roared at him, and Max scrambled away from the door, totally getting the haunted-vibes. 

For the next two weeks, Max put himself in charge of monitoring the hallway, stopping people from entering room 2F-12 by sitting in his doorway with a Nerf gun. Luckily, everyone who walked by didn’t pay one glance to the haunted room, either going to their own room further down the hall, or walking to the elevators right next to Max’s apartment. He only left to get food and use the bathroom, and he would've patrolled overnight, but his mother insisted on dragging him away from the door and putting him in bed for the night. 

Of course, crime never rests and neither did the family planning to move into 2F-12 the next day. 

In the morning, Max ran out of his bedroom and rushed through his breakfast, already armed with a gun. Apparently, he took too long to get to his patrol station, and could only watch in pure and utter horror as two adults and a girl his age crossed the threshold into room 2F-12. 

Max slammed the door shut and hard as a six year old could and dragged his step stool to the door, climbing to the top step and standing on his top toes to see through the peephole of his door. He breathed a sigh of relief when they left the room a few moments later, but the relief was short lived. 

The family would go downstairs, come back up with small boxes(the little girl always coming back empty handed,) and then re-entered the room. They did this over and over again, each time staying a little longer inside 2F-12. It's like they _wanted_ to become soul eating demons. 

Deciding the family was a lost cause, Max ran to his room and hid under the covers with his Luke sywalker figurine. He could never _ever_ leave his house ever again.

Just his luck, the following day the 2F-12 family came over with cookies. His careless and reckless parents invited the zombies in, which was them essentially just selling their soul to feed 2F-12’s hunger. Max could only hide in the laundry room for so long until his parents noticed and dragged him back out to say ‘hello’ to their new neighbors. He greeted them cautiously, and they seemed human enough. _For now._

A tiny finger tapped Max’s shoulder, and he sprang around, immediately entering a defensive position. He relaxed seeing the shocked expression of the little girl. She was around his height, in a white shirt with dress-overalls on top, sporting red hair and blue eyes. She also didn’t look at all like a zombie. 

“Sorry,” Max stammered out. “Your apartment is haunted. It turns you into a soul eating demon when you go in.” 

The girl's eyes widened marginally before she narrowed them in a glare. She stepped towards him and poked his chest harshly. “No, it doesn’t, you liar. I’m still a person.” The girl’s dad stood and kneeled to grab his daughters shoulders. He smiled kindly, with wrinkly eyes and smile lines around his mouth. 

“Sorry about my little gal here,” he took one hand and patted Max’s own shoulder. “What she meant to say was…” the dad trailed off, gesturing for his daughter to continue the sentence. The girl huffed. 

“My name is Zoey Margaret Clarke. I’m six years old. What is your name?” 

Max blinked. “I’m Max Harris Richman, I’m six too.”

Zoey’s dad stood, satisfied. “We are nice to new people, ZoZo.” 

* * *

“Hey, ZoZo,” Max leaned his weight on her body, overall buckles digging down into her back. She heaved out a breath with the new extra weight. “Whatcha up to?”

Zoey shut the book she was reading, bucking Max off her back and smoothing out her flower dress. He landed on the floor with an ‘oomph’.

“I _was_ reading.” She rolled her eyes and punched his chest lightly. “How did you get in here, Soldier?” Max sighed. 

“Your mom let me in. And are you seriously gonna keep calling me that?” He sat up as well, running over to the small loveseat next to Zoey’s couch. “I shot you with a nerf gun _once_.”

“If you get to call me ‘ZoZo’, I get to call you Soldier.” Max groaned. “Anyways, why are you here?”

“Mom and dad are out for a business trip again.” Max shrugged, moving is his upper body leaning against the armrest closest to Zoey. “And it’s my 10th birthday in like… two hours.” Zoey paled and she reached over to slap Max’s chest. 

“Maxie…” she whined and pouted. “Why didn’t you remind me? You know how bad I am at remembering these things.” 

“Forgot.” Max only hummed in response. “But Danny is taking me out for birthday ice cream, wanna come?”

With a smile, Zoey stood up and ran to her front door where her sandals lay on the welcome mat. 

“Uh, duh.”

* * *

Zoey pounded her fists on the door to room 2F-14, tapping her foot impatiently. She stood outside wearing a blue and pink dress underneath a dark blue denim jacket that was rolled up to her sleeves. On her feet, she sported a pair of plain black Mary Janes. It was the first day of eighth grade, and Max was running late.

(He was actually perfectly on time, but Zoey insisted on being ready one hour before the bus arrived.)

Despite him being so late, Zoey was very tempted to send Max back inside to change his clothes. He wore baggy jean and a black belt, a long sleeved black and grey shirt with a black and baggy _The Turtles_ t-shirt on top. The chance that he actually brushed his hair were very slim.

“Maxie,” Zoey spoke calmly, burying her face in her hand despite the fact that she was wearing BB cream, red lipstick, and eyeshadow. “I love you, but you literally look like you do everyday.” 

Max slammed the door shut behind him and they began their walk to the bus stop, entering the elevator. “Calm down, ZoZo, it’s only the first day of school.” Zoey scoffed, flabbergasted.

“ _‘Only the first day’_? Max, we can no longer be friends. You don’t meet my standards.” She stayed solemnly. Max sniggered. 

“Your standards are crazy high, and I really just don’t care enough to reach them.” When she pouted, Max smirked and threw an arm around her shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, you look really pretty today.”

Zoey grinned sincerely. “It really doesn’t make your misdeeds any better, but I appreciate it.” She glanced up at Max, a smile hitting her eyes in the way that made her dimples show. “Thank you, Soldier.”

An odd heat travelled into Max’s cheeks, and he coughed, removing his arm from around her. “‘Course. You're my best friend, ZoZo. It’s required for me to be nice.”

* * *

_Hey_

_Hey ZoZo_

_How’s the hot date_

Max was genuinely surprised to receive a text from Zoey in the middle of her date. He’d assumed Zoey and Simon Haynes would be too busy making out at the back of McDonald’s. 

_Not very good_

_?_

_Can you pick me up please_

_Omw_

Well obviously they were not making out. With an address from Zoey, Max sped down the street of LA, never more desperate to get to a certain McDonald’s. The street lights lining the streets had turned on awhile ago from it already being so dark and late, late being 9 o’clock in the evening. 

After about ten minutes of a stressful drive, he finally arrived at the parking lot of the McDonald’s. There, he found Zoey standing outside in the cold, packed in a black petticoat, red plaid scarf, black tights, Uggs, and a short red skirt, under a street lamp. He rolled down his window and pulled up to the shivering girl. Leaning over, Max opened the passenger seat for her. 

“Hey ZoZo. Get in before you freeze, babe.” Zoey obliged and slid into the seat beside him, clicking her seatbelt into place. Seeing this, Max continued on route to their apartment building.

They rode in silence until Max finally sighed. “Simon is a senior. I told you it wouldn’t work. Seniors are self-entitled bitches-”

“That wasn’t the reason he dumped me.” Her argument came out weak. “He just didn’t think we were compatible, since I’m sixteen and he’s already going off to college and all. And he doesn’t think we actually ‘click.’”

“He’s an idiot, ZoZo.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, imagining it as Simon’s neck. “But he doesn’t matter, you do. How are you feeling, babe?”

Zoey sucked in a shaky breath, holding it for a quick second then letting go. “I feel…” she looked out the frosty window, contemplating. “…I feel like I need some quality Max Time. Alone, just the two of us.”

The answer inexplicably made him flush a deep red and forget about his anger towards Simon Haynes. Max pulled into the parking lot, staring at the redhead beside him. She stared right back, a blush spread across her nose and cheeks. It was up for Max to decide if the blush was from the cold or from Max himself.

The feeling of a sudden warmth on his hands made him jump, and he realized Zoey was holding his hands on top of the console of his car. 

“Max,” she sighed, breath creating fog because of how the car actually was. “This date with Simon was a bust, but I know one person who always makes me feel 10 times better after crummy days.” She shrugged sheepishly, and Maxwarmed despite the temperature. 

“Of course, ZoZo. Spok _always_ makes me feel better too.”

“You turd. You know what I mean Soldier.”

* * *

College coordination was critical for Max and Zoey. Wherever one went, the other would follow right behind. Max promised to apply for each college Zoey applied for, and Zoey promised to choose whichever one Max got accepted to and like most. In the end, Max got accepted to five of the fifteen colleges they both applied for. Zoey was still waiting for an answer.

The answer finally came two weeks after Max’s letters. She had gotten accepted into one single school. 

“Open the box, ZoZo,” Max bounced on his heels like a child while Zoey fumbled with the key to her mailbox. “I want to see which one you got into already!” He whined. Finally, Zoey pulled the small door to her mailbox open and gasped. There was only one letter at the bottom of the compartment. 

Zoey had applied to sixteen schools in comparison to Max’s fifteen. The sixteenth school was a joke, being an Ivy League school, Harvard, across the United States. She had applied with no intention of getting in. 

“Holy shit.” Max hissed. Zoey paced around her parents apartment, tugging on locks of her red hair. “You’re going to Harvard, babe, that’s amazing!” Max exclaimed. Zoey stopped her pacing to turn around and stare at him incredulously. 

“No, I’m not going to Harvard.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Max frowned deeply. 

“What do you mean? We checked online and the only school you got into was an Ivy League school.” He laughed. “Do you know how many people are killing each other for a chance to get into one?”

“But you’re not going there, Maxie.” She stated vehemently. “I will only go where you go.”

Max’s heart dropped into his stomach, and he pushed away the light feeling in his chest from knowing she’d turn down Harvard for him. 

“You have to, don’t let me hold you back.” He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll keep in touch.”

Zoey growled and stomped her foot angrily. “What if we don’t? I don’t want to go to fucking Harvard if you’re not there with me. I’ve loved you for years, I’m not letting go so soon.”

“Love?” Max whispered before furiously shaking his head, feeling lighter than air. “Zoey, don’t do this, please. Accept the letter.”

Only silence followed. 

Resting his head in his hands, Max knew this was going to be a long night. 

* * *

“I can’t believe this is the last time I’ll see you for four years, ZoZo.” They were at the airport, Zoey dressed in a beautiful red sundress and a light blue jean jacket, looking the same way she did when Max realized just how beautiful his best friend was.

“Nope,” Zoey spoke through sniffles. “We’ll FaceTime everyday, every night, every week of every month of every year, right?” Max grabbed both her hands and brought them to his face, kissing them gently.

“Of course, babe.” He sighed blissfully. “Don’t you forget about me when you become rich and smart and famous, ‘kay?”

Zoey shook her head. “I could never forget about you, soldier.”

Max couldn’t stand the small distance between him and the woman he grew to love, more so than his own family. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled, cradling her shaking form in his arms. Zoey weeper softly in his embrace, repeating, “Don't ever let me go, please. Don’t ever let me go. I don’t want to leave you.”

It took so much willpower to let go of Zoey, to let go of what might be their last embrace. 

“Send a postcard once in awhile, ZoZo.”

* * *

After a year, they forgot to call.

* * *

The job Zoey managed to land following Harvard was back in her hometown of LA, at a company called “SPRQ Point”. 

The building was already large and modern on the outside, but the inside felt even bigger and futuristic. The company was obviously a successful one, she thought as she headed over to her new desk. It was green and bean shaped, an elegant laptop the place provided was closed on top. Zoey set her stuff down and got ready to open the laptop to explore when the feeling of eyes watching her arose. She glanced up and paused. 

_Now that’s a familiar face._

Max Richman was staring from the desk directly in front of her. He smiled sheepishly and she returned the grin, feeling many feelings she didn’t want to decipher at the moment. 

“Hey, you.”

_His voice has gotten so much deeper._ She distantly wondered how different she looked to him. 

“Hey, stranger.”

What a great first day on the job.


	7. Stay. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically and upload AU
> 
> PLEASE READ NOTES!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things to know:
> 
> Uploads are people who get uploaded to a virtual afterlife when they die. You need an ID to purchase most items in the afterlife. 
> 
> A small group of people are assigned to angels. Angels can edit the code in the virtual world and enter/exit at will. They make their own avatars that they can use in the Virtual world.

_ Max couldn’t feel anything. Nothing from his head to his toes. _

_ “Hey there.” _

_ Hello? _

_ “Don’t try to speak yet. You can soon enough.” _

_ Okay… _

_ “The system is trying to sort through your information, so I’m going to count to three. Can you count with me?” _

_ What is happening? _

_ “One.” _

_ One. _

_ “Two.” _

_ Two…?  _

_ “Three.” _

_ Three? What is going on? _

_ “Great. Welcome to Lakeview. Congrats, it’s really nice there. Only the richer uploads get here, so you must be pretty loaded.” _

_ No way. _

_ “I want you to think of yourself. ‘I think therefore I am’, and all that jazz.” _

_ …  _

  
  


_ “Very cool. That’ll be the password I’ll use to recognize you. You could call it a ‘pass-thought’.” _

_ “Think of the ABC’s, from when you were a kid. Everybody knows it. A-B-C-D-E-F-G, etcetera, etcetera.” _

_ “Now think of blue. Think of a dark blue lake, light blue sky, yellow sunlight, brown wood, green forest, other fun things…” _

“I feel sick,” Max’s voice finally croaked to life with a low groggy murmur. “Who are you?” Christ, he wasn’t just groggy: he was a whole-ass smoker. Low and voice equivalent of moist.

_ “Wow, I’m assuming somebody calibrated your voice wrong.” _

“Please send help.”

Typing came from the source of the voice.

_ “Alright, can you say that again, sir?” _

“… Please send help? Oh, wow.” That was the voice he remembered having, light and smoother than the monstrosity he just had. 

_ “Much better. Your natural voice is pretty nice.” _

Max smiled, genuinely flattered. “Yours too, God.” A laugh echoed wonderfully through his ears, all bouncy and contagious, making Max smile just hearing her laugh. 

_ “I forgot to mention: I’m not god, you can call me an angel.” _

“Very suiting.”

_ “Okay, calm down, I still need to calibrate some things. The sickness is probably some natural nausea. Can you see anything?” _

Max squinted, pixel squares coming together to form what seemed like a window in a wooden room. Through the window was a long and shimmering blue lake surrounded by neon green grass and fluorescent green trees. Beyond that seemed to be a large city and a pale blue sky.

“Yeah, I see something.” The angel remained quiet for a moment longer, so he took the time to examine his clothes. A simple grey shirt, grey sweats, and white sneakers. Nice. “Shit, there’s a bear, please help!” 

The angel sucked in a breath.  _ “Oh, Jesus, I’ve only worked here for a month. I don't know what to do? Just sit still, I’ll fix it-” _

“I’m just joking, angel.” Max chuckled while the angel sighed.

_ “Hilarious. Well, welcome to Lakeview by SPRQ Point, Max. The, uh, name is quite literal since you have the view of a lake at almost every place in this hotel. And the hotel is modeled after many different hotels around Canada and America, and, uh-“ _

“Sorry for interrupting, but why am I here? How did I get here?” Max felt around as the rest of his room took form. He was seated in a beige couch in the middle of a cozy, Victorian-looking room, beside a large white bed and a window showcasing said lake. 

_ “What do you mean?” _

“I just don’t know how I got here or what is actually happening.” The last memory Max had was of his living room, cuddling with his girlfriend, Autumn, before probably falling asleep on his couch. “It’s really nice here, but how do I get home?”

_ “Are you serious?” _

Max looked up wards in an attempt to find the source of the voice. He nodded with a raised brow. “Uhm. Yes”

_ “You don’t… oh no. It’s like Westworld now, isn’t it?” _

Shit. “What? Am I a robot now?”

_ “Max, you’re an upload? This is your heaven.” _

A few ragged coughs ripped their way through Max’s throat as he choked on his own spit. The silence afterwards stretched, long and tense. He was dead? Of course, he had seen an advertisement for uploads countless times from the first upload being broadcasted on the news, to SPRQ Point advertisements being shown on Instagram all the time. 

From day one he had no intentions of being uploaded post-mortem, firstly because he did not have enough money and secondly, because he didn’t believe in SPRQ Point. He understood that the sheer cost of storing a human consciousness in technology was insane, but uploading was still so overpriced. A family like Autumn’s could upload since they were fortunate enough to have the jobs they had, but Max himself would only afford maybe two weeks in upload alone, and that’s with some generous rounding. 

How did he die anyway? Did his mom know? Where was Autumn? How was he paying for this? Where did he die? When did he die? How did he forget dying? God, he missed his mom.  _ What if his mom didn’t even know if her son was dead? _

_ “Oh, Max, stop crying.” _

He sniffled pathetically. “I’m not crying, angel.” A tissue materialized in his trembling hands that were rested on his legs. “Thanks, angel.”

_ “Of course, Max. I’ll try to see what’s going on with your memories. You should try to talk to some other uploads and make friends. PS,”  _ she began to whisper.  _ “There’s one person you’re going to see many times. He’s a blonde guy and an AI, so he’s going to be cloning himself and doing a bunch of different jobs. If he gets too annoying, just ignore him. He’s not real, he’s an AI, so his feelings can’t get hurt. If his feelings do get actually hurt, please call for help by saying ‘angel’, because that’s not supposed to happen.” _

“Okay, but I’m just going to lay down,” as he spoke, Max crawled out of his comfortable chair and slithered into his bed, clutching the nearest pillow. “Just gotta,” He sniffled. “Take it all in.”

The angel laughed her beautiful laugh again.  _ “Of course. Don’t push yourself too hard, and enjoy the rest of your after life.”  _

“Okay…” He blubbered, and then wailed out a sob.

* * *

“Holy shit, your boy is a mess.” Mo leaned over, scanning the shaking Max’s body from Zoey’s monitor. Zoey nodded, her lip curling with a hint pity. 

“He doesn’t know he’s even dead.” Taking her stylus, Zoey opened Max’s information and scrolled through the files storing his memory. She tapped the most recent one and paid no mind to the actual video memory playing. The date of the memory was a week ago.

“God, Mo, he can't remember the past week.” Zoey remarked. “It’s actually Westworld.”

“What’s his last memory? Somebody’s been tampering with his files then.” Mo shook his head and retreated back to his own desk 

“It’s just him and his girlfriend on a date.” Zoey grunted. “Nothing too incriminating.”

Mo gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh baby, he ain’t single?”

Zoey shook her head. “Extremely un-single. So un-single that they’re making out right now.” Many obscene moans entered her headphones, and she took that as a sign to close the memory.

Clicking his tongue, Mo put on his glasses and headphones, turned on his mic and yelled: “Tobin, I can see you snatching the goddamn horchatas!”

* * *

Max did eventually get up and leave the room on shaky legs, wandering around his hotel floor. There, he met the AI. He was blonde, as the angel had said, and was named Leif. The guy wasn’t too bad for the first few minutes, but he slowly began to grate on Max’s nerves. He was always just standing there, constantly asking if Max needed help, or if he was ‘satisfied with his care’. 

When he arrived on the bottom floor, he was greeted with the sight of over two dozen people meandering through the lobby, some walking in pairs through different rooms, others sitting down while playing games on their phones or talking with others. The lobby itself was grand, with red velvet couches and golden chandeliers that illuminated the whole floor with a flaxen glow. 

“Amaze balls, am I right?” 

Max jumped away from the voice behind him. It was a man who was talking. The guy stepped into Max’s line of sight with a stupid wide grin on his face and a slight wave. 

“I can tell I scared ya-”

Max folded his arms. “Pfft. No you didn’t.”

“-but I don’t really care, so whattup?” The guy completely ignored him in lieu of dragging him away from the elevator and to an empty spot on the couch. “I’m Tobin, and I got mugged in the alleyway of New York.” 

Max blinked owlishly at Tobin. “Oh my god, wow, I am so sorry-”

“Yeah, it was rad. My legs were cut off with a chainsaw and I almost bled out, but my boy saved me. Kind of.” Tobin trailed off towards the end of his sentence. “And so now I’m here dude. I can tell you, like, just died dude, so what’s hanging?”

That was a story. Max didn’t quite understand what was happening, but the lobby sure was pretty. “I don’t know how I died.”

Tobin clicked his tongue. “Awesome sauce. Y’know, when I first got here, I went batshit crazy, man. Death kinda caught up to me, because humans are supposed to be dead. Nature doesn’t just let them… un-die. So your mind wants you to be dead.” He nodded as if he could understand what was coming out of his own mouth. Max couldn’t understand at all. 

“There’s this huge rainbow glitchy beam in the middle of that forest by the lake. It’s called the data torrent and is the connection between the real world and Lakeview, so any upload that goes in gets immediately eviscerated. I tried to kill myself in there.”

A short and awkward silence passed between them. 

“Well, bye.” Tobin waves, and then was off, leaving Max to sit in shock and wonder why he hadn’t killed himself in the data torrent yet.

* * *

“Zoey! You better come get the mystery guy!” Mo hollered, a twinge of fear in his voice. Zoey sped back over to her desk, concerned. 

“What happened?”

Before she knew it, Zoey was getting dragged into her desk chair. “He’s about to walk himself straight into the data torrent!” She sucked in a breath. 

“Holy  _ shit _ .”

* * *

Max took long strides to the large, looming, and admittedly terrifying spout of code and glitches. It had been two days since he’d been first uploaded, but those two days seemed like the worst hell Max had ever seen. 

For starters, Autumn had been the one to upload him, making her the one in charge of all of his purchases. She coddled him, monitoring his meals, clothes, and daily activities. Some days, Max felt like a ken doll. 

Tobin didn’t help either, acting like he knew so much more than he did, despite the fact that Tobin could barely take care of himself without his angel’s angry guidance. Tobin constantly tries to talk to max everyday, and, although Max appreciated

somebody actually taking interest in being his friend, he wanted nothing more than to be alone for one day. 

He tried calling his angel a few times, but she never said anything useful, just saying something about ‘trying dog therapy’ and then asking for a five star rating. She was almost as bad as Leif, and Max didn’t know where to  _ begin _ with Leif. 

Today, he decided to stop partying up with the bullshit. Enter: data torrent.

Max walked for almost ten minutes through the forever green forest trying to get to the large beam. About ten meters in front of the torrent itself was a meek wooden fence, which he easily stepped under. If SPRQ Point didn’t want their uploads killing themselves, then why was security so weak?

“ _ Max!” _

Maybe not as weak as he thought.

Turning around, he screamed to the sky. “What do you  _ want,  _ angel? I’m done with this bullshit upload, sayonara!” 

He saluted and whirled around. A flash of red and gold caught his eye. While yelling at the sky, he completely missed the young woman standing before him. 

The woman was moderately shorter than Max, fitted with bright red hair and pale skin. She wore a short black cloak tied closed in the front with a black shoestring, while the cloak itself ended at her forearms. He couldn’t see her top under the cloak, but he could see the corset and her black and red skirt. The skirt was at least three layers, a poofy white underskirt, a red skirt, and a black wrap that was tied around her waist like her cloak was. On her legs were striped leggings and black boots that came up to her knees. 

She looked out of breath, as if she had run all the way to Max. “What in the world are you doing?” She threw her hands around them helplessly. “It’s dangerous out here, Max! Please, come back to the hotel, we can talk there.”

Adamantly, Max shook his head and frowned. “God no. You guys call this place a heaven, but it’s quite literally  _ hell _ .” The sky was always so bright and annoying as hell. Even thinking about the sky lit a fire in Max that boiled his blood and made the data torrent more appealing than before. 

“Look,” His angel started, voice strained as her expression. “I know this place isn’t perfect, even though it’s designed to be, but it can’t be that bad here.” She laughed without any real humor. “There’s good food-”

“-That I can’t even  _ look at _ without my girlfriend’s permission.” Max scoffed and folded his arms. 

“Well, the people here are just like you-”

He laughed mercilessly. “Crazy, angry, annoyed, and suicidal?”

The angel worried her lip and stomped her foot with frustration. “I don’t know what to tell you!” Throwing her hands up, she sagged in defeat. “You just can’t do this. After the data torrent, it’s death. Forever. We can’t bring you back if you go in there.”

“There obviously a reason you were uploaded. Somebody out here must’ve loved you so much that they saved you from death, and you’re just taking that shit for granted! Max, people care about you and want you in this world with us. There’s no other heaven besides upload, and your family kept you here because they’ll miss you so much if you were to leave them again.” She sucked in a deep breath.

“Please, don’t do this.  **_Stay._ ** Please.”

Max paused for a long, tense moment.

“What’s your name?”

The angel looked up, confused and red-faced. “What?”

“I only know you as my angel. But you’re no AI, because the AI can't talk like that.” The wind swirled around them, but it wasn’t actually wind. It was just environmental code running smoothly.

“It’s company policy to never tell the uploads the names of the angels.” She bit her lip once again.  _ An anxious tic. _ “But fine.” With an outstretched hand, the angel grinned a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m Zoey.”

He stuck his hand out in return. “I’m Max. Nice to meet you, Zoey.”


	8. “I’m Pregnant.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zoey speaks to her dad at her wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey
> 
> Long time no see ;)
> 
> Sorry I haven’t been posting, I haven’t had any inspiration to write :((
> 
> This chapter is a little different. No narration

The next time Zoey sees her father is at her own wedding.

“Zoey. My little ZoZo.”

“...Dad?”

“Come here. A father should always have his daughter’s first dance.”

“...” 

“Aw, hon, you shouldn’t cry at your own wedding. You should enjoy yourself, live in the moment.” 

“You always knew how to do that, Dad. I’m pretty sure I’m still stuck in the past.”

“Well that won’t do. Tell me- how are you?”

“I…” 

“The man is pretty lucky. To be marrying my own little Zoey.”

  
  


“... is he? Is he really that lucky?”

“...”

“...”

“Talk to me, Zoey. Something’s got you all worked up.” 

“You were always too good at reading me.”

“...”

“...Dad, I’m pregnant.”

“...!”

“With his child. But you know I don’t know anything about children or child care! I can’t take care of anything, let alone a child. I’m only a few weeks in, and I want to tell him, but something in me is  _ scared _ .

“I’m scared of disappointing him, and mom, and David, and  _ you _ , Dad. We weren’t even trying for a baby. We had a plan to wait until we were settled down and ready, but I ruined it. It’s all my fault, and now we have a child. Our plan is ruined. I’m going to be an awful mother, Daddy. I’m so, so, so, so sorry, Dad.”

“...”

“...”

“Y’know what? Why don’t we take a trip to the past.”

“...?”

“Zoey, do you remember that spelling bee from first grade?”

“Yes, I- yeah, I do.”

“You worked so hard on those words. Every other night, you dragged your mother and I downstairs to practice with the flash cards. Of course, your underlying stage fright kicked in and you fumbled a bit on the first word.” 

“Heh… it was a simple word. I just got nervous.”

“Or do you remember when you finished Driver’s Ed and wouldn’t let me and your mother help buy you a car? You were so stubborn, scraping together enough cash to get yourself a small sedan.”

“...yeah?”

“Or when you won that Game Developer competition. Or when you came home with your SAT scores. Or when you cooked dinner for us on your brother's birthday.”

“Why are you bringing those up?”

“Zoey, I have been proud of you since day one. Every single event I just listed were times when I was proud of you. There is no way on earth that I could ever be any less proud than I already am.”

“...”

“Everything you do makes me happier than you realize. Because you're my superstar. My ZoZo. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and for that I will always love you. You are an amazing wife, mother, friend, sister, and daughter.”

“...”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be scared or nervous. I’m saying that no matter how you raise this child, no matter how many times you get angry at your baby or yourself or anyone else- you will rock it. You always have.”

“... Dad, I can’t- I can’t do this without you.”

“I love you, ZoZo.”

* * *

_ Knock. Knock, knock. _

“Zo?” A male voice calls. Zoey smooths a hand over the small, hard surface of her stomach. “Are you ready for the reception, dear?”

_ I’m so proud, Zoey. _

She smiles and bites her cheek. With her right palm, the tears are scrubbed away. 

“Coming, honey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture anyone you want as Zoey’s husband! :)


	9. Can I Stay With You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk I just rlly like this song :P more rival au
> 
> Zoey works way too much overtime.

The work on the Chirp had accelerated to a point where Zoey feared getting fired for her own self falling behind her team. But with Max’s code, her team was working impossibly fast on the project, so much so that Zoey sometimes couldn’t catch up with the incoming code flying across her laptop screen.

Overtime was something she was accustomed to, late at night and usually alone. Leif did stay behind sometimes, along with another guy with his own secluded office, but tonight she was completely alone. 

“Hello, Miss Zoey.” A coy voice greeted her. “I was just leaving, you should too.”

Scratch that. She wasn’t completely alone, Max was here too. Just her luck. 

“Hello, Max, I’m not leaving.” She spoke curtly. “I have to work if I want to keep my job and beat you in this stupid bake-off.”

Max laughed like she just told him the funniest joke. “You still think you can beat the sixth floor? We’ve won every single bake-off since the beginning, Miss Zoey.” The eye roll was completely unintentional on her part. Kind of.

“Naturally, but now the fourth floor has a manager that can’t stand insufferable sixth floor folk.” Max took long strides and stood behind her, leaning on his arm which he placed beside her on the desk. She swiveled around in her chair to face the man leaning over her. The same smirk he had when she first met him appeared to have not left his face since then. 

Zoey huffed. “Why are you still here?” Max only looked down at her. 

“Can I stay?” Zoey raised her brow at the odd question and shrugged .

“Knock yourself out, but you may get bored of me pretty quick.”

“Nonsense, Miss Zoey.” He grabbed the empty desk across from her and retrieved a journal and a few colored pens from his laptop bag. “You’re not boring, honestly.”

With that, Zoey believed the rest of the night would be spent in silence. She was once again proven wrong when snaps echoed throughout the fourth floor. Looking up, she saw Max’s piercing gaze on the table, eyes half-lidded and trained on Zoey’s face. A low and sensual baseline started up while Max continued to snap his fingers to the rhythm. 

_ Holy crap. _ Zoey marveled.  _ My enemy is about to sing to me. God, I wish this could be blackmail material. _

After a few short beats of snapping, Max began pushing his chair closer to her desk, a dopey grin sliding across his face. 

“ _ Never knew how much I love ya, _

_ Never knew how much I cared. _

_ When you put your arms around me, _

_ I get a fever that’s so hard to bear _

“ _ You give me fever,” _

Max wheeled up beside her, not close enough to but touching, but so close she could feel his warmth radiating off of him. He only sat in his chair and sang with the same lust-filled gaze as before. 

_ “when you kiss me, _

_ Fever when you hold me tight, _

_ Fever in the morning, _

_ Fever all through the night. _ ”

A tingle ran up Zoey's whole body, starting at the base of her spine, travelling up to the top of her head, then down to her toes. This was the exact opposite of the song she was expecting. She expected a song like Leif’s, trying to tell her he was better, or some kind of hate song. The song was already weird with the snapping, but everything else just escalated from there.

“ _ Sun lights up the daytime, _

_ Moon lights up the night. _

_ I light up when you call my name,  _

_ And you know I'm gonna treat you right. _

_ You give me fever. _ ”

“I give you  _ what _ ?” Zoey laughed incredulously, sweat prickling her back. Max remained oblivious to her distress and continued to croon beside her. Zoey still asked, however: “This came out of nowhere,  _ what is happening? _ ”

“ _ When you kiss me, _

_ Fever when you hold me tight, _

_ Fever- _ ”

Max stood up suddenly and faced away from Zoey, placing both his hands on his sides. Come the next line, he turned back around and sat down in his office chair once again. Zoey should feel somewhat creeped out and disgusted, but a part of her enjoyed the display. 

“Really?” She whispered to him. Just like the last time she spoke, he didn’t respond, too lost in the song. 

“ _ In the morning, _

_ Fever all through the night. _ ”

He began to wheel back to the desk he occupied, eyes never starting from Zoey’s terrified face.

“ _ Ev'rybody's got the fever, _

_ That is something you all know. _

_ Fever isn't such a new thing, _

_ Fever started long ago. _

_ They give you fever when they kiss you, _

_ Fever if you live and learn. _

_ Fever- _

_ Till you sizzle, _

_ What a lovely way to burn… _ ”

He repeated the phrase “ _ what a lovely way to burn _ ” until the music in Zoey’s brain stopped and he was back at his desk. Blinking hard a few times, she noticed that Max had returned to scribbling on his journals. Work was the furthest thing from Zoey’s mind, however.

_ Holy shit, Max Richman wants to have sex with me. I think. Maybe.  _

Zoey only realized she was still staring when Max looked at her, the glaze and fire in his eyes lost. He glanced around before looking back at her with a confused frown. “Why are you just… staring? At me?”

In a fit of panic from being caught, Zoey breathed, “ _ Doyouwanttohavesexwithmeorsomething?” _

Max’s eyes grew comically wide. “Pardon.”

Zoey grimaced. The question came out completely wrong. The fact that the question came out of her mouth in the first place was wrong. She was just so confused as to why her supposed enemy was singing to her a song filled with lustful lyrics.   


What was done was done, and Zoey felt the intense urge to shrink so small that she would be able to crawl under her desk and hide next to the table leg. Nobody would be able to find her and blame her for accidentally propositioning Max Richman.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)) please tell what I can improve on in the future !!


End file.
